Thursday, May 2, 2013

Dancing



I write these words to you,
 
river of foaming dreams.
 
Your mouth is a poison of bitter taste,
 
your blood the chilling song I hear.
 
In this room of jazz
 
crippled vintage trees,
 
I am a patient rock
 
dancing on your skin.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Ipinaskil ni sa
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